Stitched
by underastarlessnight
Summary: Sixteen year old Jughead Jones was ready to embrace a boring Summer of tedious work hours while working on his novel. That is until he encounters a mute red-headed boy who can do extraordinary things with his mind. But the boy and his friends are in danger, and Jughead, determined to help them, finds himself being catapulted into a world he never knew existed.
1. Chapter 1

Tapping. At first it was annoying, which was really the only reason why Jughead noticed it. He had been tending to a rowdy customer, a grouchy old man who had looked ready to explode. He was a red-neck type with tufts of hair sprouting from his mostly bald head and he sounded like he chain-smoked fifty cigarettes a day. Jughead had been humouring him at first, because honestly. He was sure the guy was a drunk. It was clear in the way he stood, or tried to stand. How he was always slightly off balance no matter how hard he squeezed the counter with his wrinkled witch-like fingers. That's what Jughead had thought when the man had started pointing accusing fingers at him. The man's fingers resembles those of a witch. Which was perfect inspiration for the book he was trying to write.

The store he worked at was a 24 Hour gas station sitting on the outskirts of Riverdale. It wasn't exactly busy at the beginning of his shift. There had only been a small queue so Jughead thought he could handle it. But then as the day went on, and the overbearing sun caused him to sweat through three of his shirts, it became clear that the store was suddenly Riverdale's only source of water. So men, women and children alike has suddenly flocked there, grabbing as much soda, water and barbecue equipment as possible. Jughead was less than thrilled. It meant, instead of kicking back behind the counter and finishing his novel, like he'd been planning on doing, he was in for an afternoon of screaming children and "Can I talk to your manager?!" Normally, Friday afternoon's were pretty dead. Plus, it was in the middle of summer. Most of Riverdale were either knee deep in their garden flowerbeds or crowding the public swimming pool. Jughead had walked into work this morning pretty optimistic about finally finishing his last draft for his novel.

But of course, like everything in his life, his plans were ruined.

"I'm sorry, sir." Jughead cleared his throat and tried not to think about the queue behind the old man, which was getting progressively longer. "We don't have that specific type of wine." he wasn't even sure that name existed, or the man's irritating lisp on everything he said was affecting his pronunciation of the so-called wine.

"Well, get a manager!" the man hissed, and Jughead was sure a glob of spittle had just landed on his bottom lip.

He ran a hand through his dark hair which sat underneath his signature grey hat, a hat he had worn most of his life, and fixed the man with his best I totally know what I'm doing face. "My manager isn't here at the moment." he smiled politely. But it was with his teeth. Jughead wasn't lying. His manager, Mark, a forty-something year old man with greying hair and an addiction to gambling, had gone out for the day, apparently going to stake out baby clothes for his pregnant wife, Lucy. Reggie and Moose, two other employees who happened to be in Jughead's class, were in the storage room doing stock.

Well, that's what they said they were doing. Jughead was pretty sure they were smoking weed.

Jughead was starting to sweat under the shitty light-blue cotton t-shirt bearing the logo; "HADFIELDS" with a little cartoon turtle. His shift wasn't over for another three hours, and it was… he glanced at the digital clock on the old fashioned register. 15:45pm. "Hey!" The customer snapped him out of it, and he lifted his gaze back to the rowdy man, who had somehow gotten progressively angrier.

Jughead took a deep breath. He could handle this. "Sir." he cleared his throat in a way of grabbing control. "I told you we don't have that specific type of wine." he tried so hard to say it without gritting his teeth. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave as you're holding up the queue."

Tap, tap, tap. The noise came out of nowhere. At first, he ignored it, and he dragged in a breath. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to, um…" he stammered and stumbled over his words which caused his mind to go blank. His cheeks heated up, and his chest tightened. He took another deep staggering breath, before he forced himself to continue. "Sir," he tightened his grip on the edge of the counter. He could smell stale alcohol on the man's breath and he swallowed a gag. The smell was unavoidable at home. "If you don't leave the store, I'll be forced to- to…"

Tap, tap, tap, tap.

Jughead's gaze momentarily left the stormy eyes of the old man, and he searched the queue of customers for the source of the sound. "I beg your pardon!" the man snapped his attention back, and this time he couldn't resist rolling his eyes.

"Don't you get it?!" he finally exploded, and the man stumbled a little, the fire in his eyes, the stubborn bitterness vanishing from his expression. "Leave!" Jughead hissed. His throat was thick with emotion and he was just about ready to lose the plot. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap.

His gaze snapped back to the tapping, and he once again scanned the queue of people for the source. It really wasn't helping. Jughead found himself leaning over the counter, squinting his eyes. But he only saw an impatient looking woman with a toddler tugging at her waist, a tired looking business man grasping three bottles of water and a teenage girl with long brown hair. Her eyes were glued to her phone. Jughead couldn't help his gaze skimming over each customer in the queue, which seemed to go on forever.

"What's going on here?" Jughead spun around at the sound of his colleague and classmate, Reggie Mantle's, voice. It was almost a relief. folded his arms and shot a glare at the old man, who suddenly looking intimidated. "Is there a problem, sir?" Reggie asked politely, his lips stretched into a giant gleaming smile.

The man looked like he might say something, but seemed to scrutinise the boy with beady eyes. Reggie was of Asian descent with short black hair and a trademark grin. Jughead watched the man's lip curl in disgust, but he didn't say anything. Reggie leaned forward, and Jughead could just about get a whiff of the boy's aftershave, which was a clever way of hiding the stale stench of weed. Which Jughead could still smell on his breath.

The smell of the aftershave however, was almost a godsend as he'd been stewing in his own sweat for the last few hours. It was the type of brand Jughead could never afford, even if he saved up for several months. There was a pine-fresh scent lingering in the air, mixed with something rich and biting. Chocolate?

"I believe my colleague has informed you multiple times we don't sell that brand of wine." Reggie said, and his voice was cool and confident. Reggie was everything he wasn't. "So," Reggie shrugged and offered an apologetic smile, which wasn't the least bit sorry. Reggie's smile reminded Jughead of a predator, a shark's baiting grin as it lurked under the ocean next to its unsuspecting prey. "Is there anything else I can get you?"

Jughead waited in tense silence for a face full of abuse. But none came. The man only nodded, muttering to himself, before turning and walking, or rather stumbling, out of the automatic doors and into the blazing heat. Reggie seemed proud of himself. He watched the man go with a triumphant grin. "Okay then!" he smiled brightly at the rest of the queue. "Who's next?" The woman with the toddler took an unsure step forwards, and Reggie shot her a tooth-rotting grin. "Hello there!" he started to tend to her groceries, and Jughead took a step back. "Jug, why don't you go on a break?" Reggie murmured, as he scanned a large bottle of soda. The toddler picked up a candy bar and held it hopefully. The woman sighed and took it off of the kid, before planting it on the counter and pulling out her purse.

Jughead nodded, relieved, and quickly made his way away from the cash register and hurried towards the back room, where he was sure he was going to catch Moose with a joint.

He had his hand on the door handle, about to yank it open, when he heard it again. Tap, tap, tap. He turned around, uncertainly. Wondering if this was some kind of prank. He'd seen them on YouTube. Teenagers like him, but with fewer brain cells and a limited vocabulary, following unsuspecting members of the public around, making animal noises, or just being a pain in the butt. Except when Jughead twisted his head around, his hand still clutching the door handle, he didn't see a kid or camera in sight. There was a figure a few feet away, swamped in sunlight, so their identity was hidden as the late-afternoon sun decided to blast its warm rays through the thin glass ceiling that had been replaced nearly three times because of vandalism.

Jughead squinted, straining his eyes. The figure took a few unsteady steps forward out of the shadows and he finally managed to make out a teenage boy, about the same age as him, standing a few feet away.

"Uh, hey," Jughead turned away from the door, and got a good look at the guy, who was about Reggie's height with broad shoulders and a head of rich red hair, strands of it splayed across his pale forehead. The boy was pretty attractive, Jughead thought, his gaze going over every detail of the redhead. The speckled freckles on his cheek, brown eyes caught in a deer-in-the-headlights look of fright.

"Okay, if you're here for something, ask my manager, or my colleague-" Jughead started to say, but the boy took a stumbled step backwards, his mouth opening, no sound coming out.

"Whoa, hey!" Jughead gasped out a startled breath, which slowly became a laugh. "It's cool, I'm not gonna eat you!" He waited for the kid to grin back and laugh, but the look of wariness, of fear and paranoia never left his expression. Instead of introducing himself, or awkwardly laughing and walking away like Jughead expected, he continued to stare at him, with almost a look of desperation. Which made Jughead feel incredibly uneasy.

The boy was stood awkwardly at the end of the Chilled Food aisle, and didn't make any move towards him, and Jughead, not knowing what else to do, stared back, furrowing his eyebrows. Jughead frowned, taking the guy in. He looked like one of Reggie's team-mates, a football player type. He could practically sense the muscles straining under the kid's light blue t-shirt.

Which looked discoloured, Jughead realized. Jeez, had this kid changed in over a week? He decided the answer to his mental question was no, he hadn't. The signs were easy to spot. Strands of greasy hair sticking to his forehead, his clothes- jeans and t-shirt which seemed to be permanently glued to his slim frame.

It wasn't that the boy looked menacing, or scary, in any way. It was his expression that chilled Jughead to the core. His eyes were blank, his lips were pressed together like somebody had sewn them shut.

When Jughead really looked, he noticed the boy's lips pursed, as if he was fighting against trying to say something. "Are you okay?" Jughead didn't expect his voice to be so hoarse. His throat was dry and felt like sandpaper when he swallowed. He ran his tongue over his parched lips and sighed, straightening up and folding his arms. The boy didn't reply, only continued to stare at him. Jughead noticed the guy's eyes narrowed, as if he was deeply studying Jughead, really looking into his soul. And, Jughead realized, his heart plummeting into his stomach, the boy's hands were visibly shaking by his sides. "Hey," Jughead made sure his voice was soft, when the boy's eyes widened to the size of football's when he slowly took a step forwards. "Hey, you're shaking."

The kid seemed to notice and shoved both arms behind his back, his gaze continuing to bore into Jughead's. Jughead couldn't help it. "Do you need a drink?" he studied the guy's chapped lips, and before he could stop himself, he was slowly taking another step towards the boy. He had no idea what he was doing at this point, but the guy, even if he looked like a senseless jock, also looked scared out of his mind.

"Do you have a phone?" when Jughead attempted another hesitant step, the boy staggered backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet.

What the hell is wrong with this kid? Jughead wondered, and at that moment, he swore he glimpsed a look of recognition in the boy's eyes, as if he'd heard the thought.

"Shit, sorry!" he halted abruptly, holding up both of his arms. "No, it's okay, I'm staying here." He offered the boy a smile, and the boy, after running a hand through his hair, gritting his teeth, nodded slowly.

"What's your name?" he figured he'd start slow. He didn't care about keeping professional anymore. The boy was clearly distressed. But the boy just shook his head, his eyes suddenly looking panicked. Then he seemed to steer himself, taking a shaky breath and pointing at his neck with a slender finger, before swiping it down the curve of his throat and then he was stabbing at his Adam's apple, his gaze never leaving Jughead's.

Jughead got it automatically, and for some reason his blood ran cold. "You can't...you can't speak?" He couldn't help stammering. This was getting too weird. He'd met people with throat infections, yes. He'd met mute people. But he had never met anyone like this boy. Who seemed to have no voice at all.

Jughead hesitates. "Was the tapping you?"

The boy only nods solemnly.

"Okay, look," Jughead said softly. "Do you need help? Do you need me to call someone?" Alarm bells seemed to be going off in his head now. The boy stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, which had several reddish stains covering them. He seemed to be concentrating. "What is it?" Jughead's voice was quivering, his chest tightening. This kid was really freaking him out. The boy opened his mouth, and Jughead thought he was going to speak. After quickly whipping around to see if there was anyone behind him, the boy seemed to hesitate before opening his mouth once again and mouthing something. He wasn't sure at first, because he couldn't lip-sync to save his life. The boy's expression seemed to come to life, as if he really was speaking, Dark eyes widening in terror as soundless words flew from his open mouth. Jughead felt hopeless, as hopeless as the mute kid.

But then, as if by magic, the words were suddenly clear in his head, spoken by a boy with a strained voice which bordered on hysteria. The voice was soft first, seeping into his mind, twisting through his thought processes and lighting up his thoughts. But it grew louder, louder in his head as the boy's mouth opened and closed, his lips forming words which slipped into Jughead's mind, sending shivers ripping down his spine, Goosebumps prickling across his neck and back. Everywhere. Suddenly, the voice was everywhere. It exploded into his thoughts, bounced from ear to ear. It was behind him, next to him- in every memory he had ever had, lurking, screaming and crying out for help. While the boy stood there, no sound coming out as he screamed directly into Jughead's skull.

 _"You have to help us! I don't have much time, they're going to come looking for me, oh god, I'm so weak. I can barely do this. You need to listen to me. The girls. My friends. They're-"_

Just like that, the voice was gone, as if it was dragged back through Jughead's thoughts and out of his ears. He took a shaky step backwards as his heart thundered against his chest, every part of him screaming to run. But the redhead was clawing at his hair, mouthing words with no voice. The way they popped from his mouth so colourfully, Jughead knew he was swearing. Eventually Jughead found his own voice, after struggling to locate it. He could still hear echoes of the boy's voice in his head. How had he done that?! He opened his mouth, the question clinging in his throat, when another voice startled him. "Archie, there you are!" a man seemed to come out of nowhere, stepping out of the shadows and gently grabbing hold of the red-head's arm. Jughead could only stare, his lips twisting as the boy- or 'Archie' tried to yank his arm away, but the man only chortled. "Archie, for goodness sake, stop acting like a child."

The man looked around Jughead's father's age with longish dark hair. He was wearing a white shirt, khaki's and sandals. Jughead was lost for words as he watched the man grab hold of the boy's arm once again, his grip too tight to be anything but friendly.

"I don't think..." Jughead swallowed when the man turned to face him, dull blue eyes narrowing suspiciously. Archie stared at him too, a mixture of confusion and hope lighting up his expression. "I don't think he wants to go with you." He took a shaky step forwards, ignoring every instinct inside him telling him to just turn around and run. He would run the six blocks home, back to his dad's trailer. Then he would call the police.

But he couldn't run. Archie's words, the ones he had somehow screamed into Jughead's mind without uttering a syllable, had hit him hard. The kid was in danger. Real, honest to god danger. The man seemed amused, however. Not the least bit threatened. "Oh, is that true?" his tone was patronizing, his lips curling into a smirk. Archie was still in his grasp, his head bowed, a wash of his red hair covering his eyes.

 _Go._ Jughead had to bite down hard on his bottom to lip to stop himself from reacting to the voice which was once again in his head. It was Archie. But this time his voice was soft, weak. Please just...just go. The boy looked up, his gaze automatically finding Jughead's. Brown eyes bored into his own, and Jughead gritted his teeth. There was no way he was going to let that man drag the boy out of the store. He folded his arms across his chest and smiled at the man politely. "Can I have some ID? Or any other means of proof that he-" he points to Archie, "Is related to you?"

"Ah, yes. I'm...I'm Fred Andrews, and this is Archie Andrews, my son."

Stop it! Archie hisses in his head. They can hear me, they know that-

Jughead nods. "Yes, but...can I still see some ID?"

The man looks startled for a second, and lets go of Archie, who stumbles out of his grasp. "Certainly." He scoffs out a laugh, pulling out his wallet and what Jughead presumed was his ID. "Do you really want proof that Archie is my son?" Jughead glances at the man's ID for a second, and takes it hesitantly, before glancing at Archie, who was inconspicuously shaking his head. He's... a... -eader! Archie's voice slithers in and out of his mind like a radio going out of range. _..He...'s..Using...m...ds...ID!_ Jughead resisted the urge to shake his head as a static-like screech suddenly rang in his head, and Archie could only glare at the floor, his hands tightened into fists.

The ID looked pretty genuine. Jughead stared down at the plastic card the man had handed him, and scanned for faults. He turned it over and over in his palm, trying to find some kind of proof that the man was a fake, and something was clearly wrong. His heart clenched when he glanced at Archie for a single second, and caught the utter hopelessness in the boy's expression. The boy was staring at him, and Jughead wondered if he was trying to do the strange trick he could do, sending telepathic messages into Jughead's thoughts. But from the look of frustration and anger on the kid's face, it looked like he was failing.

"Read it then!" the man snapped, folding his arms. "I don't have time for this!" Jughead ignored the man, biting his lip, and glanced down at the card, letting his gaze flicker over the bold writing scrawled on the plastic.

 **FRED ANDREWS**

 **AGE: 38**

 **SEX M**

Next to the man's supposed details, there was an unsmiling picture of him. Jughead handed back the ID and sent a panicked glance at Archie, who was refusing to look at him. Did you not h...ear me? The boy's voice rings out in his head, and he hisses out a breath. _He's...using...my...d's...etails! ...lease...ust...o!_

Archie's voice became less coherent, and ended up being another gush of white noise in his head. Jughead felt sick. The smile on the man's face put him on edge. He had half a mind to ask for some kind of proof that Archie was in fact his son, but he couldn't seem to get his words out when Archie's supposed father sent him an uneasy smile. "Right, now we've established I'm not a kidnapper," the man laughed out loud and beckoned Archie to follow him. "Come on," Jughead caught the tail end of a sly wink the man sent Archie's way. "Unless you want to say goodbye to dear Veronica?"

Jughead felt chills down his spine, and the man must have noticed. "Veronica is his hamster," he grins at Jughead. It almost felt like he wasn't even trying to be subtle. That he was deliberately playing games. "Bless her, the little thing is on her last legs." That changes something in Archie's expression. The boy straightens up and smiles stiffly at Jughead, before nodding at the man and following him back down the assorted aisles of the store. "Hey, wait!" Jughead managed through a startled breath, and started to follow them. Archie didn't look back, and there was no voice in his head any-more. Jughead was halfway to the door, pushing his way through customers, his gaze on the two figures rapidly getting further away from him. Jughead watched, swallowing hard, as the man wrenched Archie's arm, violently yanking him back through the parking lot so the boy had no choice but to stumble after him.

"Jug?" Jughead's head snapped to the familiar voice, an almost sense of reality leaking back into his life after so much had happened in so little time. Reggie was standing behind him with his signature smirk twisted on his lips, eyebrows cocked in confusion. Jughead's gaze slid from his colleague, to the last dawdling customers making their way out of the store. "You okay, dude?" Reggie waved a hand in front of his face. "Hey, hey, Jughead!" and Jughead blinked. After a second of trying to find his own voice, he managed a nod and slapped Reggie's hand away. "Yeah..." his gaze strayed on Reggie for a few more seconds before it inevitably wandered over to the parking lot where he could no longer see that startling red hair glinting against the sun.

"You sure?" Reggie cocked his head, wariness taking over his expression. Jughead nodded, straining his neck to keep an eye on the parking lot. "Yeah," he murmured. "Reggie, I'm good." But he wasn't even looking at the other boy. Reggie laughed. "Okay, sure you are, man. Jesus, Jughead you look like you've seen a ghost!"

Jughead twisted back to meet his colleague's frown, his eyes wild. "Reggie, I think I just ..." he didn't realize he was shaking until he grabbed Reggie's shoulders. "I think I just saw a boy being taken against his will."

Reggie stared at him a moment longer before chuckling. "Dude, I think you've had too much heat." When Reggie tried to feel his forehead, Jughead swiped his hand away with a hiss. "I'm serious! I..." he hesitated for a second, and Reggie was clearly enjoying it. "You what?" the other boy rolled his eyes with a grin.

Jughead took a breath. "I...I know this sounds crazy, Reggie. But the boy- he- he couldn't speak, and instead he was talking into my head, I could hear it almost perfectly, and-"

It took him a few seconds to realize that he sounded completely out of his mind. He sighed, wrapping his arms around himself. He was shivering, despite the fact that it was nearing 104 outside. "Yeah, I think you've got heatstroke, buddy." Reggie grinned. "Go and get some air, I'll look after the store." Before Jughead could protest, he realized that's what he needed. Air. Outside. The parking lot. He needed to find Archie and fast.

Jughead managed a shaky nod. "Okay- I'll...you're right. I'll go and get a drink of water." Reggie smiled and glanced at his watch. "Then, what the hell, go home, Jug. I think you need an ice bath."

Reggie walked away, still chuckling to himself, and Jughead, after considering calling the cops, walked out of the store, cringing when he felt the heat hit him. It washed over his skin, and he felt like he had just stuck his head in an oven. He shook his head, biting back a hiss. Archie had said a van, that's where his friends were, and presumably where he had been dragged back to. Jughead scanned the parking lot, counting three cars and what looked like a white transit van with shutters. "Shit," he lowered himself into a crouch and darted across the lot, passing the cars, until he reached the shutters, slamming his hands into them. "Archie?!" he hissed. He quickly checked for any sign of the man before beating the shutters with his fists. "Hey, is anyone in there?" he pressed his ears to the shutters, causing them to rattle loudly. Nothing. Silence. Jughead cursed, twisting his head so he could squint through the glare of the sun roasting the side-walk. There was no other van parked. His heart plummeted. Had it already gone?

 _What are you doing?!_ Archie's voice was suddenly pouring into his head and he nearly gasped out in relief. Instead, he pressed his face against the shutters, his shaking hands digging in his jeans for his phone. "I'm gonna get you out, okay?" he hissed. "And I'm calling the cops!"

 _No, you need to run! Get the hell out of here!_

Jughead wasn't listening, even if Archie's voice was more hysterical than normal, attaching itself to every thought process he had. "Can you stop?" Jughead hissed, wincing when the boy continued to scream into his head. He needed to get them out. He quickly checked once again for lingering bad guys, before hoisting himself onto the small pedestal underneath the shutters. "Shit, shit, shit!" he pawed at them, grasping for some kind of lock or button to open them. But there was nothing. "How do you get the damn shutters open?!" he smacked them with frustration.

Listen to me. Archie's voice is faint, but the shutters suddenly rattle loudly as if someone had hit them from the inside. You need to go. Back in the store, I was a pawn. They want... the boy's voice rattles back into static and Jughead presses himself further into the shutters, his hands grasping for a way out. "Say that again! I- I can't hear you!" he tried to grasp for some kind of leverage, some way of holding on to Archie's voice. But there was just white noise.

"Are you looking for this?" Jughead whips around at the voice, nearly loosing his footing on the pedestal. He managed to cling to the shutters. Archie's 'father' stood directly in front of him, a single silver key dangling from his fingers. Jughead could only stare at the man's grin which stretched across his face like a Cheshire cat. The shutters rattled as he attempted to keep his balance, and he felt ridiculous. Though Reggie was at yelling distance, he knew that. Jughead swallowed. He could do this. "Let them go." He's surprised at how confident his voice sounds despite his rapidly beating heart. "The kids you have in the back, let them go."

 _Fuck!_ Archie's yelling now. And he winces when the boy's voice pierces his ear, digging straight into his brain. _I told you to run!_

He knows how stupid he looks. A sixteen year old kid wearing a work t-shirt with a fucking grinning turtle on it, not the least bit intimidating, but he manages to maintain his narrowed eyes and snarl.

The man chuckles. "I have no idea what you're talking about, kid." He clicks his fingers and the shutters on the van start to slowly roll up, and Jughead stumbles off of the pedestal, straight into the man's embrace. Though he's too busy staring at the van's contents to fight back. He only half-heartedly tried to yank away from the man's grip, but his gaze was stuck to what was inside. "Get off me!" he hissed, only for the man to tighten his grip. Jughead felt sick, his stomach rolling over, when the man's lip was suddenly resting on the bridge of his ear.

"Jughead Jones." The man laughed, his breath icy as he murmured in the boy's ear, sending shivers down his spine. "That is your name, correct?" the man chortles again. "I can bet you're wondering how on earth we know that, hm?"

And he was. Jughead slipped his fingers into his pocket, feeling along the dense sides of his phone. If he could just tap out 911. "How?" his voice was choked and barely decipherable. "How do you know that?"

Another patronising laugh. "Leave that to Betty Cooper, of course. Our own private Clairvoyant. Anyway, back to you, Mr Jones. What exactly have you got to offer us?"

He struggled, fear igniting his veins. "N- nothing! Just let me go! Let them go!"

"But don't you want to stay with poor mute little Archie, blind Betty and my personal favourite, Veronica Lodge?" The man is hissing in his ear once again and he strains his neck, trying to get away.

"That girl in there is Hiram Lodge's daughter. And we fucked her up, big time."

Of course. Jughead had heard it on the news. Hiram Lodge's daughter had gone missing without a trace. Yanked from the streets of New York.

Jughead could only stare at the van, at the redhead, Archie, as he knelt next to two other girls, a blonde and a raven-head. The girls were both curled up, both hidden by their hair, but Archie was staring directly at him, his brown eyes wide in disbelief and terror. I'm sorry. Archie whispered in his head.

"No real family," the man continues to murmur in his ear. "Just an alcoholic father." Jughead struggles, opening his mouth to cry out, but the man's sweaty hand is suddenly pressed against his lips, gagging his scream. This is bullshit! Archie yells in his mind. Archie suddenly gets up and lunges at the man, but something bounces him back and Jughead blinks when he swears for a second he see's a single white flash, like an invisible force field trapping them inside. But the red-head isn't done yet. Let him go! Archie slams his hands against what appears to be a white sheet of glistening energy and screeches in his head so loud that Jughead has to hold his breath to stop himself from crying out into the man's palm still covering his mouth.

"I think you'll be a brilliant addition to our cause." The man growls in his ear, and Jughead struggles, tries to shout for help, but no sound comes out. Before he knows it, he's being lifted, hoisted up, his arms pinned behind his back and shoved into the van, straight through the force-field he felt splintering into his body as he impacted with it. "No!" he found his voice, but couldn't quite turn it into a scream. He stumbled on metal flooring, slipping as he forced his hands against the barrier, beating his fists against the sheer white light. "No, you can't do this!"

The barrier didn't budge, and he simply stared at it, for a second he was completely transfixed.

"On the contrary, young man," the man gasped out as he knocked Jughead from his stupor and wrestled the boy to the ground. "I can."

"Archie," Jughead could only gasp out in pain, his face pressed against the floor, as he felt the entire weight of the guy holding him down, pinning his arms behind his back. "What did you do to him?" His heart sank when he felt the coil of rope fastening around his wrists. The man ignores him. "I don't usually tie them up," he says cheerily, shifting his weight off of Jughead's back and yanking the boy up. "But you're a little fighter, aren't you?"

Archie was shuffling backwards, his head bowed in shame. The blonde and Raven-head didn't move, and Jughead found himself being manhandled and shoved next to the blonde. The man forced him to sit cross legged and sat back to admire his handiwork, smiling widely. Jughead grunted, leaning forward and spitting in the man's face. So many words were clogging his throat, cries and screams and threats, but he found he couldn't speak. His chest seized up and he could only stare ruefully at the man as he pulled a roll of ductape from his jacket pocket.

"Now, are you going to promise me you're not going to scream?" Jughead stared at the piece of tape the man had ripped off. His stomach clenched and he scowled, before nodding reluctantly.

"Atta boy!" the guy patted him on the head happily, before stuffing the tape back into his pocket and backing out of the van. Jughead felt his heart clench when the shutters rattled loudly as they slowly descended, trapping him with the kids he tried to save. Before long, there's a mechanical grumble, and he slides into the side of the van, hard, when the vehicle thrusts forwards.

 _Jughead._ Archie's voice was a whine in his head. He could feel the boy was near. I told you to run!

He was too angry, too frustrated and upset to reply. So he pressed his face into his lap and let himself sob into his ratty jeans. The movement of the van was making him feel nauseous. In the end, he had to look up to try and swallow the vomit crawling up his throat. But when he did look up, he found he was inches away from the blonde girl, the one he had seen seemingly asleep, with the raven head. Except she was fully awake now, sitting across from him. She too was cross legged, and when he really looked at her, he saw a halo of straggly blonde curls touching her shoulders and a face so pale she looked malnourished. Though what really captured his attention right then, were her eyes. Or at least her eye. Because the one staring at him was the brightest blue he had ever seen. Except it wasn't looking at him, it was staring straight through him. Her other eye was covered by a pirate-style eye-patch. "It's okay." She whispered, before closing her eyes. "I can see you, don't worry."

"But..." he started to say, and she shushed him. "When my eyes are closed, I can see." she fidgets a little, seemingly uncomfortable. "I can see more than I should."

Blind Betty. Jughead remembers the man saying.

He can only manage an acknowledging sound, before he leans forward in his restraints, wincing. The rope was starting to chafe. "Where are we going?" he finds himself asking, and he hates how broken his voice is, how childish he sounds. But the girl doesn't seem to mind. Her eyes are still closed, and she takes a deep shuddering breath which sounds like a laugh. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Jughead scowls at her. "Try me." He growls.

The girl opens her mouth to speak, but instead another voice rings out. Female. "Don't speak to Betty like that, or I'll blast your eardrums out." Jughead twists his head to find Hiram Lodge's daughter shuffling towards him on her knees. She's beautiful, he has to admit that. She had long dark hair cascading down her back and olive skin glinting in the dim light of the van. Though he can only see the back of her.

"Veronica..." The partially blind girl, or Betty, murmurs, as if in warning.

"I'm kidding." The raven head mutters. Then she sighs deeply, turning her head to Archie, who's sat in the corner, his head pressed against the metal sides of the van. "Oh, Archiekins." She murmurs. "You've really done it this time. Now they're gonna Stitch him too." The girl's voice wavers sarcastically. "Well done!"

"Stitch?" Jughead can't help whispering. He struggles in his bonds, the word sending his heart into a frenzy. "What- what does that mean?"

Veronica shuffles closer on her knees, further into the light, so he can see her properly. Her face. He managed to hold back a cry, but the girl only sighs. "Oh, let it out." She grumbles. "Yes I know," she self consciously piles her long dark hair in front of her face, though specifically over the ruptured holes where her ears should have been. "I have no ears." But her smile flickers, almost teasingly. "So how can I hear you, huh?"

Ignore her. Archie mutters in his head. She's just trying to scare you.

Hiram Lodge's daughter giggles. "No, I'm not, Archie. I'm just telling the new boy how it is." Then she focuses her gaze on Jughead, who's half-wondering how on earth Veronica can hear Archie.

It's a psychic link between us. Archie replies almost automatically in his head. It's hard with you, because I'm just forcing my words into your head. When they... He hesitates. If they Stitch you, you should have a psychic link with us too.

Jughead felt like crying. He didn't want to have a psychic link!

Veronica's voice was almost sing-song, as she knelt next to him, swaying gently, her hands on her bare knees. Betty had wandered over to Archie, and Jughead could hear her murmuring to him.

"Here's the story of us," Veronica smiles brightly. But Jughead can see the pain, the resentment in her expression, because he was everything she wanted to be and more. Normal. "Archie the singer lost his voice, Veronica the model lost her ears, and Betty the brainiac lost her sight. Her gaze lingers on Jughead, and he tries not to cringe.

"I wonder what you're going to lose." she murmurs. Jughead tries to answer, tries to tell her that he's not going to lose anything because he's going to get himself and them out of there.

But then Archie's voice is in his head again.

 _I wouldn't be so sure, Jughead._

* * *

review for more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Stitching is not cruelty. It is giving our gifts to the younger generation, but not playing God as in doing so.**

Doctor Samuel Tanzeni.

'...in the town, where I was born

lived a man, who sailed the sea

And he told us of his life

In the land of submarines.' 

* * *

'Archie.' Jughead's voice was thick. No matter how hard he tried to keep it from breaking; he failed. Still, he couldn't take it anymore. That song was on loop in his head and it was driving him crazy. He had promised himself that he wouldn't speak to any of the others after they had told him there was no way he was going escape Stitching. Though after the fifteenth chorus of Yellow Submarine, he was finally ready to break that stupid pact to himself. He had known the mysterious Archie Andrews for less than a day and he already wanted to strangle the red-head.

Considering the circumstances, though, he already felt bad for even thinking that.

He'd been sitting in silence in the same damn position for God knows how long. He'd figured bowing his head and nestling his face in his lap so the others wouldn't see his gross crying was a good idea but now he couldn't seem to stop. Jughead hadn't cried since he'd caught his dad unconscious in the bath at the age of thirteen. Since then, he had hidden under some kind of stupid façade; that he was always okay. That Jughead Jones had never shed a tear in his entire life. He went to Southside High so you kind of had to be tough. But now he was here. Trapped with three kids he had tried to save as he was driven to the same fate. Just thinking about what had been done to them made him want to scream until his throat was raw. But not out loud. Never out loud. He hated that Archie could hear him screaming inside his head.

'Hmm?' Archie was quick to reply which pissed him off. Had Archie been singing Yellow Submarine on purpose? Just to keep him awake? There was a beat of silence in his head where the singing cut off before Archie "cleared" his throat. 'Jughead? Are you okay?'

Jughead let out a scoff which turned into a sob, though it was muffled in his lap.

'Am I okay?' Jughead repeated, hating the way his voice broke like he was some stupid kid. 'I've been kidnapped by a mad scientist!' he hissed. 'What do you think?' He held his breath when tears started to sting his eyes once again and slowly trailed down his cheeks. He was pissed off and needed someone to yell at. If not, he feared he'd go insane. 'And while we're talking, why the fuck do you keep singing that stupid Beatles song?'

Jughead felt ridiculous bent over himself; his arms felt like they had been chopped off. He sniffed loudly and wiped his damp eyes against the rough material of his jeans.

Archie had told him that he could project his own thoughts in Jughead's mind - when he wanted to. That meant the boy was purposely singing to him. For a moment, he imagined silencing Archie with his own thoughts - being able to mentally push the other boy out. Of course, at the moment it didn't work both ways, but eventually he'd be Stitched too. He would be "awarded" the gift of telepathy and he'd join the link that Archie, Betty and Veronica shared. He thought it was creepy, in all honesty, like some kind of hive mind. While he was pretty sure he had wished for some kind of superpower at some point in his adolescent life; he would rather get shot in the head than be part of The Mutant Freak Force.

'Thanks.' Archie's voice came fast, slamming into his thoughts as if the boy had violently stuffed it into Jughead's skull. 'As for the singing, that stupid fucking song has been in my head ever since I-' Archie hesitated, as if the very mention of it would cause Jughead to have a fit. It was pointless though, even if he wanted to blacklist the word from any future conversations; there was no escaping his future. Jughead's stomach lurched when the van flew over a bump in the road and jerked him forwards.

'Since you were Stitched,' Jughead finished out loud, swallowing hard, unable to help the disgust that dripped from his tone. He expected no reply but after a few seconds, the boy's voice came back, this time softer.

'Yeah.'

Jughead didn't know what else to say, he figured he had upset Archie with his comments but after a few seconds, the red-head was back in his thoughts.

'I..I didn't mean to scare you, earlier. I think it's just a sore subject with me, Betty and Veronica, y'know? We didn't have a choice, it just…' Jughead choked.

'And I do?'

Archie groaned.

'That's not what I mean.' His tone turned sour. 'It just happened so fast. One second I was me, I was Archie, and the next. I..I couldn't speak...there were people in my head telling me to scream as loud as I could, sing as loud as I could. But I couldn't... and now I can speak only telepathically.' Jughead heard the boy's tone hitch as if he was about to cry. But he managed to compose himself. 'Then I could speak to Betty and Veronica, all three of us could suddenly have these conversations in our own heads…' Archie drifted off. It felt like the boy was hesitating to project these thoughts into Jughead's mind. Like they were too personal.

'You don't have to tell me,' Jughead muttered in a tone that projected his surrender to the conversation.

'No, I want to talk to someone. The girls hate it when I talk about...the...the procedure.'

Jughead couldn't help himself. Even if the very thought of Stitching made him feel sick, he had to know. Some kind of second nature intrigue was attached to the word. It sounded like something from a Mary Shelley novel. Was he going to get his limbs sliced off? Were they going to turn him into some modernized Frankenstein's Monster?

'I'll pretend I didn't hear that,' Archie muttered, and Jughead bit his lip.

'Shit, I'm- I'm sorry,' Jughead rushed to speak but the other boy just chuckled. It was the first time he had heard Archie laugh and Jughead found himself revelling in it. Even if it technically was still in his head. After a comfortable silence, Jughead sighed. 'What were you like?' He asked. 'Before that bastard took you?'

'Like you,' Archie muttered in reply. Jughead expected more but the boy lapsed back into silence.

Jughead's head swam dizzily, his thoughts distant and foggy. He attempted to yank on the bindings that still restricted his arms tightly behind his back. Archie was still silent. Jughead could sense he was near. Earlier, the boy had shuffled over to him and offered to loosen the ropes around his wrists but he'd been stubborn, choosing to continue silently staring into his lap, blocking out – or at least trying to block out the red-head's voice. "Can you just leave me alone?!" he'd hissed when Archie and Betty had tried to help. It had been a while since then, though Jughead had no sense of time. He felt like he'd been in the van his whole life. The memory of yelling at that particular grumpy redneck at work felt like some kind of vivid hallucination.

Jughead lifted his head slowly, prising his eyes open. He winced when his whole body complained at the sudden movement and he hissed through clenched teeth when the intense lights illuminating the space they were trapped in seared his sight. He shut his eyes for a few seconds, and when he opened them, he found himself staring at a body stretched out in front of him on the metal flooring. Though there wasn't just one. Three slumped forms lay at his feet and he glimpsed the familiar halo of sunshine coloured hair hiding Betty Cooper's disfigured face. Jughead felt his heart skip in his chest. She looked so peaceful, just laying there, curled into herself as if she could hide from this nightmare by simply doing just that.

Next to Betty was Hiram Lodge's daughter. She had fallen asleep with her arms wrapped around Bettys chest, as if to protect the smaller girl. Veronica Lodge's hair was spread around her on the floor, exposing the ruptured holes where her ears should have been. Jughead figured he should have felt disgusted, but the fact that she had no ears didn't make her any less beautiful. Her olive skin shined against the harsh lights of the van, her eyes closed as she buried her head in Betty's shoulder as she breathed softly in sync with the blonde.

Then of course, there was Archie.

The boy was lying closest to him, he had his head of scruffy crimson curls buried into his arms.

'Betty Cooper.' He heard the boy's voice murmur. 'We were taken at the same time. We've been best friends for years.'

Jughead nodded slowly, his neck stiff. He felt strange talking to Archie while the boy lay on the ground, his legs stretched out, head hidden away in his muscular arms. Jughead was the only one sitting up. Though he couldn't exactly lie down, even if he was exhausted and his body was trembling. His stomach grumbled but he was pretty sure if he ate something now, he'd throw it back up. He realized he was still in his work t-shirt, the soft cotton material sticking to his damp skin.

He wanted to know the details surrounding Archie and Betty's past, pre-Stitching, but it was up to Archie if he wanted to tell him. Though after a few minutes of staring at Betty Cooper and wondering how beautiful her eyes had been, he realized he missed the red-head's voice in his head. Silence drove him mad, and after listening to his own breathing for the sake of not thinking about things like his fate, Jughead drew in a breath.

'Archie?' He murmured.

'I'm here,' Archie mumbled after a few seconds. Jughead thought he might have fallen asleep, but the boy slowly sat up, lifting his head first. His sleepy brown eyes crinkled in irritation when the bright lights of the van hit them and Archie hissed in Jughead's head. 'Fuck,' the boy grumbled. 'The lights are way too bright.' Jughead did his best to shuffle closer to the boy once Archie was sitting up properly.

'Archie,' he said softly, swallowing hard. He had to ask now. If he didn't, he never would. And he'd have to find out for himself.

'Mm?' The boy regarded him, his eyes widening curiously. Archie cocked his head, his gaze landing on Jughead's arms still pinned behind his back. 'Do you want me to untie you?'

'I'm okay,' Jughead lied. Archie, after looking unconvinced, nodded. Just say it!

'What's Stitching?' Jughead whispered, and he swore Betty, supposedly fast asleep on the floor, flinched. Her shoulders jolted for a second, and Veronica let out a shaky sigh. Archie smiled a little. He gestures to the girls.

'They like to talk to each other, telepathically,' He murmured softly. 'They never were asleep.' There was a pause and then Archie spoke again, this time it wasn't to Jughead. 'Veronica,' He muttered, a warning tone lilting in his voice. 'Be nice.'

'So now you wanna know, huh?' Veronica didn't open her eyes and breathed softly into Betty's hair. Archie turned to her, and Jughead watched, mystified, as the two them seemed to be having some kind of telepathic conversation before Veronica let out a scoff, huddling her face back into Betty's shoulder, grumbling. 'Stop sugar-coating it, Andrews.' Archie turned to him again, rolling his eyes.

'Sorry about that.' Jughead nodded shakily. He still wasn't used to being with three kids who defied the laws of physics.

'I didn't mean to scare her,' Jughead gestured to Betty. Archie nodded.

'It's okay.' He offered Jughead a small smile. 'You didn't really scare her. She just doesn't like the word-' He didn't say it. He didn't need to. Veronica came back to life once again.

'What Archie means is that she has nightmares every single night about.' the girl still had her face huddled into Betty but Jughead could tell her teeth were clenched. 'About what they did to her.'

'Ronnie,' Betty finally spoke, her voice soft. Jughead felt his heart clench once again, a swell of anger building in his chest. How could they do that to her? How could they forcefully take her sight? 'I'm okay,' Betty said. Her eyes were shut, but Jughead knew she was looking at him, then she sighed. 'Archie, why don't you show him?' Archie's expression darkened for a glimmer of a second and Veronica groaned.

'Jesus Christ!' She hissed. 'Stop shielding the new boy like he's some kind of fucking lost puppy! He's going to find out anyway!'

Jughead saw Archie's expression twist with anger for a second, and he suddenly really wanted to know what the boy sounded like. What he really sounded like. Jughead imagined Archie opening his mouth and yelling back at the girl, with his actual voice.

'What if we get him out? We can- we can try, right? It doesn't have to happen to him too.'

'Keep dreaming, Archie,' Veronica sighed. 'Jughead will be newly Stitched and sharing our telepathic connection soon, don't worry about that.'

'Can you stop being a bitch?' Archie yelled, making Jughead wince. More feedback attacked his brain.

'I don't get it,' Veronica bit back. Finally, she sat up, her eyes wide open and glaring at the red-head. 'Why are you so obsessed with being the hero? Just let the bastards do their thing! It's inevitable anyway!'

'I haven't seen it, though,' Betty murmured. 'I've seen Cheryl and Kevin but I can't- I can't sense Jughead.' Jughead didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Was that good or bad?

'You're still seeing those two?' Archie hissed. He sounded panicked. 'Does that mean they're taking kids from Riverdale High?' Betty shook her head.

'I- I don't know. Oh god, it hurts my head…' she whimpered, lifting a pale hand and brushing it across her forehead, skimming her eyepatch.

'B, just sleep, okay?' Veronica tightened her embrace around Betty's small form, and the blonde nodded.

'Right. Sorry, I- I dunno, I can't-' her expression crumples. 'Ronnie, I can't see what they're going to do to him, and it scares me.' The words hit Jughead hard, like a crash of icy water enveloping him, drowning him. But he pretended he hadn't heard. Though Archie had. The boy sent him a reassuring smile, which seemed to splinter.

'Veronica is a sweet girl, honestly,' he says. 'She's just angry and upset about what they- what they did to her.' Jughead only nodded. But he was speechless. Why couldn't Betty see him being Stitched? 'She's just scared,' Archie continued. 'Because she was the first out of us to be Stitched, she blames herself.'

'Why?' Jughead found himself asking. Archie just shook his head. 'I was a pawn in the gas station to capture you,' he muttered. 'Who do you think they used to take me and Betty?' Jughead didn't need to answer. His chest tightened at the thought of an oblivious Archie walking straight into the same trap he had. After hesitating, Archie's voice broke slightly before he heard it loud and clear in his head. 'Jughead, do you really want to know what Stitching is?'

 **No.** Jughead thought, a part of him screaming at him to just turn away from the others, and continue to sob like a baby, wrapped in his own company.

'Yes.' He found his lips mouthing the word, followed by his own voice shakily escaping his lips. Archie nodded, but he seemed distant. He was probably thinking of his friends. Who were in danger of the same fate. Archie lay back down and stared hard at the pipe-lined ceiling of the van.

'It's not just thoughts I can push into people's heads.' He turned to Jughead. 'It's memories too. I can…' the boy almost sounded like he was in pain. 'I can show you what happened to me.' Jughead felt a chill ripple down his spine.

'How is that even possible?' he hissed. As if the whole telepathic communication was completely normal.

'It's…' Archie scoffed. 'It's a long story.' Jughead nodded shakily and rested his back against the dense sides of the van. His whole body ached. He chewed his lip, attempting to undo a knot in his restraints, but the rope was too tight. He winced when it rubbed against his already sore wrists. Archie cleared his throat in his head. 'It might take a second. I'm not used to doing this.' The boy then rolled onto his side to face Jughead for a moment, his expression wary. 'You sure you're ready?'

 **No.** Jughead felt a rush of anxiety hit him suddenly, but he swallowed his doubt and nodded.

'I think so.' Archie smiled reassuringly before lying flat on his back, his eyes flickering shut.

'Alright, here we go.'

Jughead wasn't entirely sure what happened next. The last thing he saw was Archie's expression crumpled with concentration, his eyelids flickering. Before he felt himself plunging into darkness, into a void, where a sudden screech of static attacked his thoughts.

'No,' he tried to say, but found he couldn't. Because he couldn't feel his lips, or even his body anymore. The stinging in his wrists from the rope burn was gone, along with the ever present nausea twisting in his gut. 'No, Archie, stop!' He wanted to scream. But suddenly the screech became less incoherent and started to sound like...like cheering. Clapping. And then he felt something hit him, a rush of...happiness mixed with terror and pride. He felt adrenaline flooding his veins. Something warm bathed his skin as he tipped his head back, grinning...

No, this wasn't him. These were Archie's emotions flooding him, enveloping him in a gentle, caressing warmth he never thought he'd feel again. This was Archie's memory. Jughead blinked his eyes open, suddenly blinded - not by the intense lights of the van, but colourful spotlights dancing across his vision. He felt beads of sweat running down his face, the stage he was standing on.

'Archie Andrews, everyone!' someone yelled, followed by a cacophony of cheering and clapping. There were loud footsteps as somebody ran over, a boy with close cropped black hair and a huge grin spread across his face. The image wasn't completely clear. The audience was a blur, but the boy's face was almost in picture perfect HD. 'That was amazing!' the boy's voice practically sang out in Jughead's mind, his voice echoing loudly in his ears.

Kevin Keller.

Archie's memory supplied the name for him before he even questioned it, and Jughead, in his state of a kind of limbo, suddenly felt something prick in his mind. Betty Cooper's words suddenly crashing into the memory: I can sense Kevin and Cheryl, but not Jughead. She had whispered, clearly distressed. Betty hadn't seen him being Stitched. Dread filled him just before he was fully plunged into the memory. Kevin. Jughead's last thought strayed between the two minds.

And there he was. Kevin Keller, the supposed next victim in the mysterious Stitching program. And he had no idea.

* * *

Before Archie was Stitched, his one goal in life was to make it as a singer.

The uncouth ring in his ears drowned out the cheers as he stared out across the crowd of people. Sweat escaped under from the ember line of his hair, trickling down behind his ears into the collar of his blue plaid shirt. His chest heaved as he heaved humid air, gasping for breath as his heart hammered against his ribs.

'Archie Andrews everyone!' Kevin Keller, who stood on his right, yelled excitedly, throwing up his arms in exhilaration. Archie turned his head, still breathing heavily, catching a glimpse of Josie McCoy standing in the wing, a grin plastered on her face. She was yelling something, but he could barely hear her over the audience's applause. Josie stepped out onto the stage and came over, grabbing his arm and holding it high.

'I think we have a winner!' she yelled into the crowd, and there was a corresponding cry of agreement. She slung an arm over his shoulder and he could only grin wider as the stage lights danced across his vision. Reds, blues, and oranges swimming across his peripheral. The numbness that had held his body in a tough vice began to lessen and he gripped tighter onto his guitar and managed to get a good look at the audience the more the lights started to dim, signalling the end of the show. Shadowed silhouettes made way for real faces grinning back at him and Archie's chest swelled with pride.

'Archie, that was amazing!' the sudden hand on his shoulder startled him but the familiar sing-song tone of the sheriff's son made him relax. He wasn't sure why he was so tense. 'I knew you could do it!' Kevin grinned, Josie nodded, her normally studious and scrutinizing glare which had intimidated him to no end had lit up into a bright smile which contrasted her warm chocolate skin perfectly, as the stages spotlights blinked on once again, washing the three teens in vibrant greens and sunshine yellows.

'Alright, off the stage now, kids!' a man's voice yelled- somewhere on the wing. The talent show was over, and Archie didn't think his night could get any better. He chuckled to himself as he followed Josie and Kevin off stage, his base guitar in one hand, amp in the other, as the audience began to get up and leave the hall, eagerly rushing backstage to greet their loved ones.

'Okay, so, next time? Smile more,' Josie was laughing, her arms folded across her cat-suit as her pussycat ears lightly bounced on her scalp. Her puffed cheeks and exhilarated voice as she ranted on about "not looking like death" when performing, was pretty entertaining to say the least. The backstage area was crowded with people eagerly coming over to him and yelling their congratulations in any manner. Josie and Kevin talked animatedly around him as he packed all of his stuff up, grabbing his bag from where it still sat where he'd left it. Funny. He swore he had texted Betty to keep it safe. 'Keep your facial expression cool and relaxed,' Josie was saying, as Kevin sat cross legged on the floor, his index finger eagerly flicking down his phone.

'Oh god, Cheryl put up loads of photo's.' The boy groaned. 'Now it's going to take me three years to untag myself from them all.' Archie found his jacket and slung it over his shoulders before finally turning to the two teens. His heart was still racing from the performance, and their consistent chatter was hard to keep up with.

'Guys,' he smiled, dragging a hand through his ginger hair. 'Have any of you seen Betty?' He pawed in his jacket pocket for his phone and pulled it out, glancing at the screen.

'Actually… no I haven't, now I think about it,' Kevin replied. 'She said she was coming tonight, right?' Archie was still staring hard at his phone screen. There was almost always a message from Betty.

'She said she wouldn't miss it for the world,' he mumbled, his stomach sinking slightly. There was a beat of silence as Kevin and Josie exchanged glances while Archie flicked through all means of social media he had. He brought up the text he'd sent an hour ago. Just before the performance.

'We'll go look for her,' Kevin smiled reassuringly, grabbing Josie. The girl nodded. 'Wait here.' The two ran off, leaving Archie alone. Well, mostly alone. There were a few meandering contestants and their families grabbing selfies, but apart from that, it was just him. Archie sighed to himself, finding a seat on an amp box and slumping down. The adrenaline from the performance had gone, leaving his mind foggy. He stared down at his phone. He couldn't help it. One text. That's all he needed. One text and he'd know she was okay.

 **7:12:pm: Archie: I'm so nervous!**

 **7:14:pm: Betty: Don't be nervous! You're gonna do great! I'll be right there in the audience, cheering you on 3**

 **7:35:pm: Archie: Oh god I'm about to go on I'm so nervous. Josie is yelling at me haha**

She hadn't replied after that. And he figured, yeah. She was probably busy with something, or perhaps something had come up. But she would have texted him and told him that. The weight on his chest got heavier. Betty never missed a text. Even if it was at 2am and he'd been up all night drinking a bottle of his dad's tequila. Betty was there to tell him to shut up and go to sleep in the nicest way possible. Sometimes she even went over and joined him. Archie and Betty had been friends since they were toddlers. They were the boy and girl next door, him being the jock on varsity with girls after him, and she was the smartest girl in their year, with the highest GPA on record.

They didn't fit. But at the same time, they did.

The point was, Betty always texted back. He had been almost positive his phone's screen would suddenly light up with a text from her. He held it in front of him, his brown eyes narrowing at the dark screen. Except it didn't. A hand was suddenly clamping down on his shoulder.

'You did great out there, kid,' Archie looked up suddenly, meeting eyes with his father. Fred Andrews stood over him, a bright smile and unmistakeable tint of pride in his voice. Archie nodded with a small smile, humbled.

'Thanks, dad.' Though his tone was flat. He couldn't stop thinking about- 'Have you seen Betty?' Archie asked his father as Fred picked up his guitar with a grunt. The man nodded.

'Yeah, about half an hour ago? In the school parking lot. I saw her when I was parking up.' Archie shot up from the amp box.

'Really?' He was halfway to the fire exit before Fred could say any more.

'I'm just going to have a word with Mr Wetherby about those music classes you were after, and then we'll motor, okay?' Archie nodded.

'I'll meet you at the car in ten minutes.' He was off like a rocket before the man could utter another word.

The memory stopped for a second, as if someone had hit the pause button. Jughead found himself staring at a freeze-frame as Archie ran towards the fire exit, his hands out in front of him as he grabbed for the handle. But then the image disappeared, making way for a new shot from the boy's perspective. This time Archie was staring up at a clinical white ceiling as a man wearing a surgical mask bent over him, blue eyes wide in excitement.

'Still awake, Mr Andrews?' The man jeered, the surgical mask muffled his tone, but his eyes said it all. Archie couldn't move, couldn't speak. He could only stare into the doctor's scrutinizing eyes with as much hatred as he could muster.

No. Jughead wanted to cry out, but he couldn't. He was as helpless as the boy strapped to the hospital bed. No, Archie, I don't want to see this! As if the boy had heard him, the image in his head once again froze- just as the doctor was leaning over the boy, poking a slender finger into the flesh of his neck.

Then he was standing in the darkness. Silhouettes of cars surrounded him as the boy hurriedly paced the concrete, gaze hyper vigilant as he scanned the pitch dark for his friend. But she was nowhere to be seen. And Archie was getting progressively more worried and on-edge.

'Betty?' Archie cupped his hands over his mouth as he yelled the girl's name. He walked slowly through the parking lot, in between parked cars. His converse crunched on the gravel and he cringed at the sound. It was quiet. Way too quiet. Archie shivered, despite the warm June heat enveloping him. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried once again. 'Betty!' he startled when his phone vibrated in his pocket and he quickly pulled it out eagerly, glancing at the screen. But his face fell when Kevin's name lit up his notifications.

 **Kevin:** **No sign of her. Have you checked the B+G office?** 8:35PM

Archie huffed out a breath and started to type out a reply **,** but a sudden firm grip clamping down on his shoulder caused him to swivel around, a disconcerted look of fright on his face. There was a man standing, practically looming over him. Something about his expression, the way he was standing, gave Archie the creeps.

Him. Jughead felt something slam into Archie's memory and hit him. It was the overwhelming sense of fear-twisting and turning his stomach and eating away at his brain. A sudden flutter of images, of memories, suddenly came alive and they were all the same thing. The man's face. At different angles. Different expressions. Dark eyes, twisted grins and a thunderous laugh which seemed to bring them all together, stitching them in place. Archie was terrified of him.

'Hello!' The man smiled politely, and Archie didn't know what else to say.

'Hey,' he frowned, 'uh...I'm looking for my friend, so if you don't mind…' Archie took a few steps backwards but the man was suddenly in front of him again, and Archie had a hard time understanding how.

'Mr Andrews!' The man crooned. 'Archie is it?' Archie nodded uneasily.

'Yeah?' He tried to look and sound as defensive as possible. The parking lot was empty apart from the two of them, which was enough to start alarm bells ringing in his head. The man took another step towards him, but this time Archie didn't take one back. He found himself glued to the ground as he practically touched noses with the strange man. His heart started to thunder in his chest.

'Archie, I watched your performance,' the man's lip curled and he cocked an eyebrow suggestively. 'You really have a knack for singing, don't you?' Archie found himself nodding. He'd do anything to get away from the weirdo.

'I guess?' He shrugged, deciding to take another subtle step back. The man adapted the smile of a Cheshire cat.

'Mr Andrews, this is very cheeky of me, but what would you say about joining my cause?' Another step back. Though this time he was forcing down the irresistible urge to cry out for his dad, or Betty. Anyone. Archie swallowed hard and tried to ignore the man's impenetrable grin.

Cause?" he repeated, hating how choked his voice was. 'What are you talking about? What Cause?' He took another step back, but found himself slamming into something hard and metal. 'What?' He spun around, his gut squeezing, when he found himself staring at a white transit van. Archie's gaze skimmed over the shutters while an icy shiver began to slowly creep down his spine.

'I..I need to go,' he managed after a second. 'My dad's-"' he hesitated, glancing at the man's smirk. Archie's expression darkened. 'What do you want?' He hissed. 'Look, I- I have somewhere I need to-' he cut off abruptly when the guy's arm shot out, grabbing his before he could make a run for it. The man quickly yanked him close.

'Oh, but don't you want to see a demonstration?' Before Archie could utter a word, or even try and get away the guy was slinging an arm over his shoulders which wound around his neck. Tight.

'What are you doing?' Archie yelled, his cry penetrating the night. 'Get the hell off me!' He tried to struggle but the man's grip was impossibly firm.

'Young man, I suggest you stop struggling and simply let me show you the beauty of our Cause,' the man's polite and kind façade disappeared as he spat into the boy's ear, keeping Archie in a death grip. Archie was shaking.

'What the hell are you talking about? Let me fucking go!' He purposely elevated his voice but the man slammed a hand over his mouth, gagging his next cry.

'Listen here you little brat,' the man hissed. 'I think you need a lesson in respecting your elders.' Archie tried to bring his hands up to beat the man's hand away from his mouth, but the man applied harsh pressure over his nose and mouth and suddenly he couldn't breathe.

He stopped resisting.

'There we are,' the man said as he loosened his grip slightly, and Archie could only hang helplessly in the man's grip. 'Now,' he hissed in Archie's ear. 'I'll ask you one more time. Would you like to join our Cause?'

'No,' Archie muffled into the man's hand, before biting into the podgy flesh of his palm. But the man didn't cry out, to his surprise and disdain.

'I'm sorry,' the man growled, pressed his palm against Archie's mouth and nose, once again cutting off his oxygen supply. Archie struggled, but to no avail. 'What was that?'

'Ye- yes!' Archie puffed for air desperately under the man's heavy hand. The guy let out a triumphant laugh which chilled him to the core.

'Wonderful! That's all you had to say, boy!' The man let go of him and he gasped for breath, staggering backwards as he fought to stay upright. 'Now I think a demonstration is in order.' The man pointed to him, a smile slithering on his lips. 'Stay.' And to Archie's amazement, he did.

'What-?' he fought back another scream when the man pulled out a revolver.

'Shut the hell up and watch.' Archie could only stiffly stay rooted to the ground, his panicked gaze following the man's pointer finger. 'Veronica, dear, if you continue to defy me, I won't Stitch him, I'll kill him.'

'N- no,' was all Archie could utter, desperately. The man continued to glare into the dark of the van.

'Veronica,' he hissed. 'Aren't you going to come out and show him what we have to offer?' Archie had no idea who the man was talking to. His gaze strayed on the van's shutters when they rattled and began to slowly ascend. 'Now, Mr Andrews,' the man was suddenly grabbing him and yanking him, stumbling to the van's entrance. 'Do you know of Veronica Lodge?'

Where was his Dad? Archie tried to turn his head to scan the parking lot. Silent. Empty.

'Now this is the fun part.' A voice was suddenly in his head. The man's voice, trickling into his thoughts. Archie couldn't breathe. He tried to shake his head, ridding of the voice, but it only grew louder. 'Well, look at that. Your father isn't here to help his dear son. Pity. Don't start thinking anyone's coming for you, dear boy. This whole place is under a glimmer.'

'How…?' Archie hissed out. 'How are you doing that?' The man ignored him.

'I said, Mr Andrews. Do you know of Veronica Lodge?'

Archie could only nod, as if on autopilot. He tried to move once again, but it was like something- an unseen force, held him firmly in place. Veronica Lodge was the well-known heiress, daughter of Hiram Lodge, one of richest men in America. He'd seen her in magazines, sometimes. She did a lot of photoshoots. He was used to seeing her shining olive skin and sleek black hair, her flirtatious smile, when he was flipping through one of Betty's teen beauty magazines.

Except Veronica Lodge had gone missing two weeks ago.

The van's shutters finally came to an abrupt halt, having revealed the contents of the white transit. Though Archie couldn't see properly. He squinted, his chest tightening, when a figure seemed to slowly plunge through the darkness of the van. It took him a few dizzying seconds to realize- it was Veronica Lodge. But not the teen model he knew. This girl was on her knees, dressed in a discoloured white dress barely reaching her knees. Archie stared at the girl, his converse scuffing on the pavement as he tried to stumble away. The girl's head was bowed, a sheath of her ebony hair covering her eyes. Something white was wrapped around her head, covering her ears. Veronica's lips were curled with disgust, with fear.

'Don't make me do this.' Her voice was soft. Dangerous. She lifted her head slowly. Archie let out a hissed breath. He could see her properly now. Her filthy skin, tired eyes wide with fright and confusion, her lips twisted into a scowl. Veronica folded her arms across her chest, but he could see she was shaking. 'I-'her voice broke, her gaze suddenly on Archie. 'I'm sorry.' Archie stared, before struggling violently. He threw himself forwards, but the man hang on and he was simply yanked back like an elastic band. The ground seemingly continued to hold his feet hostage. He couldn't move.

'Sorry for what?' He gasped out.

Veronica shook her head, as if in apology. Archie could only stare as she opened her mouth. He thought she might cry for help, scream for her father. But instead of a coherent scream- what he was used to- a wail escaped her mouth as her lips stretched into a horrified cry.

His first thought was to slam his hands over his ears, but the man had his hands pinned tightly behind his back. The noise was like nothing he had ever heard before. A piercing screech assaulting the air, attacking him like a blast of heat. Except Archie felt the ground rumble under his feet. He cried out, his knees giving away as he hit the pavement- face first. But the girl didn't stop. The van started to sway as her voice rattled it into some kind of submission. Archie was aware of the fact that he was screaming, his cry echoing the girl's. He tried to dig his face into the rubble. He could feel something trickling from his ear.

'Stop!' He cried out. 'Please!' The world around him swayed, as if the very ground beneath his feet was trembling. He pawed around on the ground for some kind of leverage, but the girl's scream was tearing into his brain, numbing his senses, his thought processes. He could only kneel and take it.

'Now.' The man had bent down to murmur in his ear. 'What do you say, boy? I was thinking Telepathy?'

'Yes,' Archie heard himself cry over the girl's overwhelming screech. The man's words didn't make sense. He just wanted it to stop- for it all to stop. 'Yes- yes! Just stop it!' The man's laugh startled him.

'That's enough, young lady.' He felt arms wrap around his waist and drag him to his feet. But this time he didn't fight back. The girl's scream was still ringing in his brain, tearing him apart from the inside. But Veronica didn't stop. She was still kneeling when he bothered lifting his gaze. Tears sprang to his eyes. Helpless, babyish tears. Veronica's lips were locked in a wide, terrified scream. Her eyes were wild, as if she was trying to stop it, but the scream continued to pierce his brain. Archie managed to stare at the girl through fraying eyelids. His chest was heaving, his throat dry.

'You're- you're hurting her!' He cried, snarling with fury when he felt the man shove ear plugs in his ears and prodded at his face with a tissue.

The sound of the girl's scream wasn't so intense then, because of the plugs. But Archie didn't care about himself any more. He watched in mute horror as the girl began to tremble, then shake, as the scream continued to stream from her lips. Her gaze was set on him, her hands clawing desperately at her hair- at the bandage wrapped tightly around her head.

Veronica's nose started to ooze blood as the wail continued to carry her, but haemorrhaging her ears and nose. Archie swallowed bile as he watched dark spots of scarlet appear through the bandage. But she didn't seem strong enough to hold it any longer. Veronica strayed for a few seconds, swaying on her knees as the scream grew strangled in her throat, before falling backwards into the darkness, her cry cutting off almost instantly.

Silence once again wrapped around him, but his ears still ached, his head was still pounding with pressure. Archie couldn't help it. He struggled from the man's grip, but it was easy. The guy let him. He stumbled over to the van's entrance and peered in, rising on his toes.

'What did-?' He gasped for breath, tears trailing down his cheeks. 'What did you do to her?'

'Stitching, Mr Andrews.' The man came up behind him, leering in Archie's ear. 'We gave Miss Lodge the power of a Banshee.' Archie spun around, his eyes flaring with anger, with confusion and fear.

'A what?' The man grinned excitedly.

'A banshee.' The man repeated, his grin widening. 'Oh Archie,' he cupped Archie's face fatherly, swiping the boy's neck once again with the bloody tissue. 'You use your voice far too much.' He murmured. 'If only there was a way to shut you up for good.'

'Go...to...hell,' Archie hissed back, pushing the man away. The man only leaned closer. 'Now, are you going to scream? Because I'd love to see you going to town on your vocal chords before I rip them out.'

Archie stilled, his heart starting to pound. 'You sick fuck.' He mumbled, turning his head in disgust when the man clicked his tongue, reaching out once again with the tissue. 'Ah, you've got blood on your neck, you silly boy.'

Archie didn't move. 'Veronica.' He managed to choke out. 'Did you kill her?'

The man rolled his eyes. 'It happens all the time. She's a fucking drama queen.'

'Though, enough about Miss Lodge!' He was suddenly grabbing Archie in one of his vice grips and yanking him up, flailing, before shoving him into the van. 'By the way, I think your missing friend is closer than you think.'

'Wh- what?' Archie only managed to cry out, before he was flying forward into darkness, knocking his head on something hard. He saw stars explode across his vision, but he couldn't stop thinking about Veronica- the way she had dropped, like her puppet strings had been cut. Archie groaned, rolling on the floor, his body slamming into something hard and metal- and cold, before rolling into a something warm- something...moving. He leapt up, sliding on the flooring, peering around in the darkness. He only had enough time to lunge forwards, trying a one last ditch effort to escape, before he felt his hands slam into- into..something. 'Let...let me out!' He shrieked, pummelling what looked like an opaque glass door which was impenetrable. He couldn't get through it. His head span, dizzying thoughts overwhelming him before he remembered the girl. Veronica. Sobbing to himself, Archie stumbled around on his knees, trying to paw around for something living.

'Let there be light!' The man yelled in his head, and he bit back a cry when something so impossible, so far from reality, struck inside his brain, like the man was directly inside his skull. He yelped when the space around him suddenly lit up in a piercing gaze and glanced up, shading his eyes at the blazing bulbs attached to the van's ceiling. Archie felt himself slump to the ground and buried his face in his knees, screaming into his jeans. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't push the voice out of his head.

'Archie?' A sudden voice, a voice so familiar it struck ice in his heart. He lifted his head, eyes raw and peered through his straggly ginger hair hanging in his eyes. The van space was lit an intense bright yellow, and he could only stare as his sore eyes adjusted.

Betty Cooper. He let out a startled breath which choked into a sob. Betty Cooper, his best friend, was curled up in the corner, still wearing her baby pink dress he'd seen her in earlier, just before his performance. She was bent over the unconscious girl. Veronica Lodge. Who lay there, her eyes closed, blood smearing down her cheeks. She must have been crying blood. Betty's expression was blank, her normal strict blonde ponytail was slowly falling out, strands of her hair hanging in her eyes as she pressed shaky fingers to the girl's neck.

'Betty…' Archie managed to hiss, through his teeth. He found himself crawling forwards and knelt next to his friend, peering over Veronica's body. 'Is she…?' He could only whisper but Betty shook her head. Archie didn't know what to do, then. He let his body slide to the ground, and he curled into himself, burying his head in his arms. He heard Betty start to sob, and tried desperately to hold it together himself.

'What's going to happen to us?' Betty's cry sent shivers down his spine. 'Are we- are we going to end up like her?' Archie didn't answer. Because the man's voice was in his head once again. And no matter how hard he clawed at his hair and silently screamed into the ice cold floor- it still rang in his ears- a delightful leer, ripping into his brain.

'Oh, Mr Andrews. With your voice and Betty's intelligence, we have wonderful plans for the two of you.'

'So we sailed up to the sun

 _Till we found the sea of green_

 _And we lived upon the waves_

 _In our yellow submarine'_

* * *

'How much longer?' Jughead found himself asking. He felt his lips once more, as part of him slid back into reality- where he was still lying on his back in the white van, He was positive he had been crying. Screaming even. A soft voice belonging to Betty Cooper, was distant in his ears. But it wasn't Betty from Archie's memory, the girl in the baby pink dress, still with her sight. Still with her shining blue eyes. No, it was Stitched Betty. The girl they had taken, along with inspiring singer Archie Andrews, and turned them into monsters.

'Jughead?" He could hear her murmur. He could sense her leaning over him.

'He won't wake up until Archie lets him.' Another murmur. Veronica. He felt her presence near. 'Just let him wade his way through it okay?' Her voice was soft and silky, reassuring to the blonde. Jughead tried not to think about her in the red-head's memory. Her ear-splitting cry that had tore from her lips while her wild eyes had pleaded for mercy.

'Not long.' Jughead startled at the sound of Archie's voice, as he floated in-between his own mind and the red-head's. Archie paused for a second. 'I just...I want to show you this.' The boy whispered softly. 'I want to show you, because I'm going to get you out before they do it to you. Even if it kills me. Do you understand me?'

Jughead stayed silent. He was afraid of what he would say if he dared speak. Instead he let Archie's voice seep into his thoughts like maple syrup. Slowly drowning him.

'Jughead, this...' Archie's voice trembled, and Jughead fought back the urge to cry out that he didn't want this anymore. He wanted out. But he kept his mouth shut and allowed Archie to show him. 'This is Stitching.'

* * *

'Now, Archie. Stop struggling. You know it gets you nowhere.' Archie didn't stop. Even when they restrained him to a chair, fastening his wrists tightly to the arm rests with tough Velcro that he continued to yank at, no matter how many times the man sitting in front of him told him to not to.

'What is this?' He had yelled, his voice hoarse. 'Why- why are you doing this?' He hadn't stopped crying since they took Betty away, and it had taken four armed men and threatening his father's life to finally make him stop. But Archie couldn't stop thinking about that last second he had seen her. Betty Cooper. Being dragged away from him.

'Archie!' She had screamed, digging the heels of her shoes into the posh marble flooring of the institute they had been taken to. 'Archie, don't let them do this to me!' She had been crying, wailing, as she was yanked violently backwards. Her blonde hair - halo hair he'd used to call it - was dangling in straggly knots in her pale face; her blue eyes wide and terrified. They said they were going to take her sight. Archie tried to hold onto the image of his best friend. But not that Betty Cooper. It was the girl he had grown up with. The girl who had sat in his treehouse with him at the age of eleven, shining eyes glistening with tears as the two of them watched a soppy film on Hal Cooper's old TV set. He wouldn't remember this Betty. This hysterical, screaming Betty. But he would.

He had tried to lunge for her but his arms had been strictly restrained behind his back. He'd been screaming himself, screaming her name, screaming threats to the people holding him back. But if he was honest with himself, it was mostly for Betty. He just needed to scream. He needed to cry and screech and yell until his throat ached. They were going to take it away. His voice. Despite the unimaginable outcome of the procedure, he still couldn't think about himself. Not when Betty was being taken away to be 'Stitched'. He didn't know what it meant, didn't understand what was going to happen to him. The only certainty was that they were going to change the both of them, forever.

'Oh it's so much more than that, Mr Andrews!' The man, still nameless in his head, snapped him out of it. Archie squirmed in his bindings and tightened his fingers around the plastic edges of the arm rests. He forgot the nameless man could somehow hear his thoughts. He stiffened in his chair and fixed the man with a glare.

'Let us go,' he pleaded, ashamed at how broken his voice was; he knew he was going to be Stitched. He was trapped - but there was still a hint of rebellion still flowing through him; desperate to tear its way out of his chest.

'Archie,' the man sighed as he straightened up, crossing his arms over his chest. 'You do know why we do this, right?' He couldn't help it; anger rippled through him.

'Revelling in your sick fucking fantasies?' He spat in the elder man's direction, trying once again to vault from his chair but the tough restraints yanked him back. He was still wearing his shirt and tie from the performance, which appeared to be the only factor out of place in the small doctors suite he was in. It was identical to a hospital suite. There was a bed just behind him, and every time he glimpsed sight of it, his stomach jolted.

'No.' The man knelt in front of him once again, his expression darkening. 'Do you realise how lucky you are? Do you know how many kids would kill for what we're giving you?' When the boy didn't answer, the man chortled. 'Come on, Mr Andrews,' he murmured, a smirk flickering on his lips. 'I bet at one point in your life you've wanted to be Spider Man.' Archie scoffed out a laugh, which slowly morphed into a sob. He bent his head back, squeezing his eyes shut against the stupid tears that pricked at his eyelids.

'Yeah, when I was eight. I grew up!' The man looked like he might want to argue but instead he sighed.

'What we'll be performing in the next couple of minutes is called a Cordectomy.' The man explained, suddenly adapting a professional tone. 'We will be removing your vocal cords, or if we're being fancy here- your Larynx.' Archie stiffened at the word, but he didn't move his head, his brown eyes refusing to stray from the ceiling tiles. 'We will then go on to perform a minor surgery on your central lobe where we will be-' Archie blocked out the rest. Nevertheless, the man continued. '...This will take away your ability to speak.' He added, for a moment he sounded forlorn. 'But, young man! Why speak when you can project your voice into the head's of others?'

'You sound like a cheesy commercial,' Archie spat back. "You better let me go, or- or my dad-' he trailed off.

'Fred Andrews is safe until now,' the man sighed. 'As is Alice Cooper. Ooh, and FP Jones.' He winks. 'But that's spoiler.' Archie didn't realize he had been gripping the armrest until pain shot through his fingertips and he pried them off the sharp plastic. Finally, he did look up. After the man had finished explaining, he moved onto talking about post-procedure; how they had special talents which would heal him quickly. But Archie wasn't listening to any of that. Through the man's warbling in his head, he lifted his gaze and finally made eye contact with the nameless monster.

'Rot in hell,' he growled. The man laughed, leaning forward.

'Archie, I don't understand why you're complaining so much.' He took a step back, spreading his arms, that same glimmer of joy in his eyes stretching his lips into a cruel grin. 'Soon you'll be singing into people's heads! How exciting is that?' Archie finally lost it kicking his right leg out aggressively.

'You're crazy!' The fear that had been building up inside him, slowly eating away at any logical thought; finally he erupted. He tossed and turned in his chair, throwing himself forwards and backwards, even to the side. But it was no use. The man only leered at his attempts to escape, at his scarlet face as tears trailed down his cheeks.

'No, Archie,' the man only shook his head, never losing that joyous grin lighting up his whole face. 'I'm a genius.' Everything seemed to go so fast after that. Before Archie knew, he was strapped to the hospital bed, an oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth. He could only gasp into the plastic, clenching his fists. They had already fed him anaesthetic and now it was a waiting game. His eyelids began to grow heavy and he swallowed the dread building in his throat. He was going to lose his voice. He was never going to be able to speak again. The man disappeared for a while, as Archie fought his way through some kind of escape attempt which didn't work. Before he knew it, the psychopath was looming over him. 'As of five minutes ago, we have our first Clairvoyant of your generation!'

Archie felt his heart splinter.

Betty.

The man, now dressed blue scrubs and a surgical mask, leaned over his bed causing goose flesh to ripple down his arms.

'Get..' he struggled with speech. 'Get away from me.' The man seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself.

'Why don't you sing a little song before the procedure? We can do an encore?' Archie didn't reply as the man pulled out an iPhone, and his heart dropped into his stomach when he recognised it as his own. 'YouTube.' He muttered, flicking his finger down the screen. Archie flinched. He couldn't help watching. 'Ah,' the man crooned, his eyes lighting up at the screen. 'I know a few Beatles songs, how about one of them?' Archie didn't answer, and before he knew it, the upbeat melody of a song was beginning to fill his ears. He managed to tear his gaze away, but dark spots started to splatter his vision, and he felt his head start to fill with fog. The man began to hum to the song, continuing to scroll through Archie's phone. 'So tell me,' the man sent him a suggestive smirk. 'Who is this Kevin Keller?"

Archie couldn't reply.

He could only listen to the sweet melody, twisted by the man's voice as it seeped through his foggy brain as he felt himself slowly start to fall...

* * *

'We all live in a Yellow submarine,

Yellow submarine, Yellow submarine

We all live in a Yellow submarine

Yellow submarine, Yellow submarine'

 **review for more! :D**


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